The Inheritances Game (Jameson Hawthorne)

The Black Woods And Thea

"We aren't the only ones searching for the next clue," Jameson said as dusk began to give way to darkness. "I saw Grayson with a map of the woods."

"Thea's tailing me," Avery said, ripping off a piece of tape, "The only way I can shake her is when she sees an opportunity to mess with Xander." Jameson brushed gently past me and marked off the next tree over.

"Thea holds a grudge, and when she and Xander broke up, it was ugly." He said.

"They dated?" Avery said looking shocked. "Thea is practically your cousin."

"Constantine is Zara's second husband. The marriage is recent, and Xander's always been a fan of loopholes." Nothing with the Hawthorne brothers was ever simple including what Jameson, Avery, and I were doing now. Since we'd worked our way to the center of the forest, the trees were spread farther apart. Up ahead, I could see a large open space—the only place in the Black Wood where grass was able to grow on the forest floor. My back to Jameson, I moved to a new tree and began running my hands over the bark. Almost immediately, my fingers hit a groove.

"Jameson, Avery." It wasn't pitch-dark yet, but there was little enough light in the woods that I couldn't entirely make out what I'd found until Jameson appeared beside me, shining an extra light. I ran my fingers slowly over the letters carved into the tree.

TOBIAS HAWTHORNE II

Unlike the first symbol we'd found, these letters weren't smooth. The carving hadn't been done with an even hand. The name looked like it had been carved by a child.

"The I's at the end are a Roman numeral," Jameson said, his voice going electric. "Tobias Hawthorne the Second." Toby, I thought, and then I heard a crack. A deafening echo followed, and the world exploded. Bark flying. My body thrown backward.

"Get down!" Jameson yelled. I barely heard him. My brain couldn't process what I was hearing, what had just happened. Jameson grabbed me and pulled me toward the ground. The next thing I knew, his body was over mine and the sound of a second gunshot rang out. Gun. Someone's shooting at us. I heard footsteps beating against the forest floor, and then Oren yelled,

"Stay down!" Weapon drawn; A small eternity passed. Oren took off running in the direction the shots had come from, but I knew, with a prescience I couldn't explain, that the shooter was gone. "Are you okay, Avery?" Oren doubled back. I rushed over to Avery, who Jameson had grabbed with his other hand.

"She's bleeding." I told everyone. "Your face." I said to her in shock.

"Did they shoot me twice?" she asked, dazed.

"The assailant didn't shoot you at all." Oren ran his hands expertly over her body, checking for damage. "You got hit by a couple of pieces of bark." He probed at the wound below Avery's collarbone. "The other cut's just a scratch, but the bark's lodged deep in this one. We'll leave it until we're ready to stitch you up."

"Stitch me up." Avery said still in a daze.

"You're lucky." Oren stood, then did a quick check of the tree, where the bullet had hit. "A couple of inches to the right, and we'd be looking at removing a bullet, not bark." Oren stalked past the place where the tree had been hit to another tree behind us. In one smooth motion, he produced a knife from his belt and jammed it into the tree. It took me a moment to realize that he was digging out a bullet. "Whoever fired this is long gone now," he said, wrapping the bullet in what appeared to be some kind of handkerchief. "But we might be able to trace this." This, as in a bullet. Someone had just tried to shoot us. My brain was finally catching up now. They were aiming for Avery.

"What just happened here?" Jameson sounded like his heart was beating as rapidly and viciously as mine. I grabbed his hand to try and comfort him. And me.

"What happened," Oren replied, glancing back into the distance, "is that someone saw the three of you out here, decided you were easy targets, and pulled their trigger. Twice."

I looked at Avery, she had blood surrounding the bark. If it wasn't for seeing the bark you would think she had been shot. Oren was talking on the phone but I wasn't paying attention. I looked back at the tree, it had been badly messed up but you could still see where Toby's named had been etched in. This couldn't be the clue, it didn't have anything to do with the last clue. This whole thing had nothing to do with Toby. He was dead.

Oren hung up, then turned his attention back to Jameson, Avery, and me. "Follow me. We'll stay where we have cover until the support team gets here."

He led us back toward the south end of the forest, where the trees were denser. It didn't take the team long to arrive. They came in ATVs—two of them. Two men, two vehicles. As soon as they pulled up, Oren rattled off coordinates: where we'd been when we were shot, the direction the bullets had come from, the trajectory. The men didn't say anything in response. They drew their weapons. Oren climbed into the four-seat ATV and waited for us to do the same.

"You headed back to the House?" one of the men asked.

Oren met his subordinate's eyes. "The cottage." Halfway to Wayback Cottage, my brain started working again. He's taking us to Wayback Cottage. Not Hawthorne House. Oren thinks this may have something to do with someone in the house. It couldn't, no one in the house would try to kill her bo matter how upset. I exchanged a look with Jameson who was still holding my hand.

Mrs. Laughlin was at home when we arrived at Wayback. The older woman took one look at us and ushered us inside.

"I'll put on some tea," she said. I let go of Jameson's hand and moved to sit on the couch, As soon as I went to sit my legs gave out making me most fall onto the couch. I sat and watched Oren stitch up Avery, after a while  Jameson sat down on the couch with me handing me a cup of tea. Later after that Mr. Laughlin walked through the front door and let it slam behind him. There was mud on his boots. From the woods?

"Something's happened," Mrs. Laughlin told her husband calmly. Mr. Laughlin looked at Oren, Avery, Jameson, and me and then poured himself a glass of whiskey. "Security protocols?" he asked Oren gruffly.

Oren gave a brisk nod. "In full force." He turned back to his wife. "Where's Rebecca?" he asked.

Jameson looked up from his own cup of tea. "Rebecca's here?"

"She's a good girl," Mr. Laughlin grunted. "Comes to visit, the way she should." So where is she? I thought.

Mrs. Laughlin rested a hand on my shoulder. "There's a bathroom through there, dear," she told me quietly, "if you want to clean up."